8. 8

EIGHT

Amanda was the first person to get to the airport that Friday. She'd done it on purpose - come hours earlier than anyone else - so she could look around the different shops and what they were selling at duty-free prices. She found that throwing away money for useless little items or food always made her feel better for some reason. Perhaps it was a habit instilled in her by Lisa. They hadn't spoken since the incident at the strip club, though they had texted a little. Amanda sat alone at a round table and sipped at a polystyrene cup of coffee. She was dressed more casually today - she felt she needed a change from the regular shirt and trousers look. She wore casual bootleg jeans, black ankle boots, a loose grey V-neck sweater, a thin beige overcoat, black leather gloves and a grey beanie on her head. One case of her necessary belongings rested beside her, next to the table. Coming early had also given Amanda more time for her to think about the journey ahead - something she hated doing, but did far too often nonetheless. Amanda leaned back in her seat and lifted the mug to her lips, the coffee no longer piping hot as she drank it. Her face crumpled and she put down the cup. She took out her cellphone - the vibrations of which she had been ignoring for all the time she had been at the airport - and scrolled through the messages.

Amanda scoffed a little and gave Han a call.

"Amanda?" Han spoke, picking up the call in an instant, a split second, "Where the hell are you?"

Amanda laughed on the inside, though she kept her voice reserved, "I'm at the airport. Where are you?"

"Driving to the goddamn airport!" Han retorted, "I've been calling you all morning, searching the compound. The whole organization is searching all over Philly for you!"

"And yet they didn't think to take a glance in the airport?" Amanda asked him, "Seems excessive. They could have tracked my phone."

"Of course. Call off the search. I've been here for ages," Amanda laughed.

"You did this on purpose," Han pointed out.

"Did not," Amanda replied.

"Did too."

"Did not."

"You did, and you know it."

"Did not, slander and calumny."

"You'll find any excuse to cause a fuss for Briar."

"Aww, she sent out the search?" Amanda kissed her teeth, "Didn't know she cared so much."

"Be glad you're leaving the country, she'd've had your head for this."

"Oh, I know she would have tried to," Amanda scoffed, "Now quit driving and talking to me, you're going have an accident and subsequently have a reason to blame me for it."

Han dropped the call as instantaneously as he had picked it up.

Amanda looked at her cold coffee, idly. It took her a moment to realize she was smiling. It felt somehow wrong, so she stopped. Dann had always hated Han, for reasons Amanda didn't quite know, as she was only told of this bitter rivalry long after Dann's death. There was a sliver of longing in her still, for Dann - and so there was also a loyalty to him that she couldn't quite get rid of, despite the fact that Dann had been dead for quite some time. Not to say that she hadn't engaged in any physical relationships - she'd had many and only regretted a few - but none of these relationships were about commitment. They were simply there to fulfill a need or a want. Stress release, Amanda would call it. Perhaps in her mind, she couldn't fathom any more meaningful relationships. Perhaps she was scared to find that she could love another. She didn't know. And, she decided, it wouldn't matter for much longer anyway, since she was going to England.

"Oi, oi," someone said, approaching Amanda. She looked up and found a narrow, bleak-looking woman standing over her, hands in pockets and elbows swaying where they stuck out in a rhythmic fashion. The woman was smiling, but it was by no means sweet. There was a dark menace about her.

Amanda blinked, stowing her phone away and checking her pockets for her wallet without actually meaning to, "Can I help you?" she asked the woman.

The woman scoffed, itching the back of her head - one side of which was completely shaved clean, the other abundant with cascades of brunette curls, "A British accent in this American mess, how refreshing," she said, smiling and holding an empty chair at Amanda's table, "This seat taken?"

Amanda gestured for her to sit and the woman sat. "Haven't seen you before," Amanda replied.

The woman put her hands together - Amanda noticing the colorful tattoos painted on the woman's arms creeping to her wrists, hidden beneath her dark sleeves - and she furrowed a brow at Amanda, "That something worth mentioning?" she asked.

"Considering I don't usually meet people I'm not told about..."

"Nobody strange ever give you a polite hello?" smiled the woman, a glint of silver shining from inside her mouth.

Amanda scoffed, "Not unless they want to sleep with me. And I reckon you're not here for that," Amanda smiled, "Who are you?"

"Jeez, you must be fun everywhere," the woman commented, "You've got to be Amanda Cross. Han told me about you."

Amanda gave the woman an observant, wary look - wondering what kind of response she would receive, "You're not his ex, are you?"

The woman guffawed, banging her fist on the table, "Nah. Never in the next million fucking years would I even pretend to be Han Schmitz's ex."

"Well, thank God," Amanda replied, "I don't think I could have sat at table with a woman so tainted."

"Name's Aria Miller," said the woman, putting her hand forward.

Amanda continued to narrow her eyes - taking in the woman's clearly Indo-Aryan features - and shook her head, "No, it's not."

"Well, just Miller to most," the woman shrugged and took her hand away, "I don't work with your organization but the English Division has hired me to equip you and Wonderboy with some tools you might need. I'll be flying with you to London, you'll get a briefing from the bigwigs - for which I won't be present - but then you'll be handed to me so I can give you your supplies. Then you'll be on your way to Bradley. Pretty, quiet place," Miller yawned, open-mouthed and unashamed, and then winked, "but don't think that London is the last you'll be seeing of me."

Amanda paused and stared at Miller for a very long time. Amanda focused on a mark on the table before she said, "I'm going to ask you again: who are you?"

"I know your type," Miller smirked, shaking a forefinger at Amanda, "that accent... I've lived in London all my life, and I can tell..." she sat down and stared at Amanda, "Chelsea girl, yeah. With a north-west hint... Under all that American toning..."

Amanda glared at Miller, "Stop that," she murmured, dark-faced.

"After all these years, you couldn't quite brush off what you were, Mandy - what I am," Miller said, her smile shrinking, but staying nonetheless, "London hoodrat."

"Stop that," Amanda repeated.

"Amanda!"

Amanda was almost relieved to hear Han's voice. She stood up far too eagerly and turned to see him approaching, hailing her from a distance with his hand raised in the air. Lisa was behind him, carrying two duffel bags. Elina and her step-mother, Gemma, followed after them along with - most shockingly - Talbot.

"Cavalry's arrived," Miller muttered, standing and putting her hands in her pockets.

Talbot was the first one to get to Amanda, "You silly child!" he scolded her, "We were looking all over for you! We thought perhaps you'd done something incredibly stupid!"

Amanda laughed, "Well, I'm here, aren't I?" she smiled at Talbot.

"Amanda," Han nodded at her.

"Hansel," Amanda nodded back, and then looked at Lisa, "Andy..."

"Don't worry about it," Lisa said, putting up a hand, "Already forgotten. Just glad to see you're alright."

Han gestured to Miller, "I see you've already met Ari," he said to Amanda.

"About that," Amanda replied, "When were you going to tell me about the living embodiment of the 90's?"

"Oh, ouch," Miller muttered sarcastically.

Han sighed, rolling his eyes, "I see you've made friends," he tried to move passed them, "Now, let's get a move on-"